Traffic and Weather
by etecia
Summary: AU. ‘We belong together. Like traffic and weather.’ Brooke was careful to remain as monosyllabic as possible. As nice as this guy’s fiancée seemed, she was not going to forget about that cranberry red stain he’d left on her dress.
1. Of Parties And Airplanes

**Title – Traffic and Weather**

**Summary – AU. 'We belong together. Like traffic and weather.' Brooke was careful to remain as monosyllabic as possible. As nice as this guy's fiancée seemed, she was not going to forget about that cranberry red stain he'd left on her dress.**

**Rating – T, to be safe.**

**Pairings – Brooke/Nathan (other pairings tbc)**

**Disclaimer – Not mine.**

* * *

'Shit, shit, shit!'

Brooke Davis looked down miserably at the white silk, A-line, knee-length dress with the plunging V-neckline that now sported a large, wet, cranberry red stain.

'No!' she cried.

'Oh my God, I am so sorry,' said a soft voice in front of her. 'I wasn't looking where I was going, I should've…'

'Yeah, you shoulda,' Brook growled, as she shook the last few drops of alcohol from her fingers and glared upwards at the face standing in front of her.

_Woah._

The guy was seriously cute, and _tall, _with short, dark hair, startlingly blue eyes and a strong, masculine jaw. He was also wearing a crisp black shirt and dark trousers, dressed smartly, like all the other guys at the party. The only reason he stood out was because he had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and had a hideous pair of white sneakers on his feet. Totally wrong for the outfit, and completely inappropriate for the party. Brooke forced herself to ignore his obvious fashion faux pas (and how _hot_ he was) and concentrated on the matter at hand. Her ruined dress.

'I am so sorry, here let me help you with that-' the guy started, but Brooke interrupted him.

'I think you've done enough for tonight,' she hissed, trying to scrub out the stain with a nearby napkin. What was the point in trying? 'Great, just great,' she muttered. 'Egyptian silk…'

'Look, please, can I at least pay for it?' The guy was still trying.

Brooke rolled her eyes. Obviously the guy was not taking a hint. Brooke placed her hands on her hips and tossed her glossy dark hair over one shoulder.

'Look, buddy, I don't need your help, okay? I think maybe it's you that should be getting some help, since you obviously have zero social skills and are apparently devoid of enough brain cells to realize that right now you should be walking away,' she spat sassily.

The guy put his hands up in defeat. 'Hey, I'm only trying to be a good guy. There are plenty of people who would have walked away and just left you. Then you'd have been spitting blood about the guy that tipped his drink over you and then ran off without apologising.'

Brooke shut her mouth and narrowed her eyes. He had a point.

'Look, just give me your number, okay? Then I can sort something out about paying for the dress,' he offered, holding out a pen.

'What am I, a prostitute?'

'At this party, probably not,' he laughed. 'But you tell me.'

Still with her eyes narrowed, Brooke pulled out her card from her clutch and snatched the pen from him, scribbling her cell number on it. 'Fine,' she snarled. 'But this is a personal number, and if you use it for anything else than reimbursing me, I will hunt you down and personally castrate you.' Brooke held out the card.

The guy had the guts to chuckle at her comment. 'You got it.'

* * *

'You gave him your number?'

'Haley, that's not the point,' Brooke chided as she plonked herself on her couch with a tub of Ben and Jerry's Cookie Dough.

'And what exactly _is_ the point?'

Brooke dipped her spoon into the tub and rolled her eyes. She was on the phone to her 23-year-old sister, Haley Davis, who was currently living in a small town in North Carolina. Haley was the only sane family member Brooke had, and although they were extremely different, the two girls could not have been closer.

'The point is the asshole tipped his drink over me-'

'By accident.'

'Whatever, the point is he was extremely rude and I am going to get my own back and swindle lots of money out of him for ruining my dress.'

'Brooke, that's terrible! You can't do that!' Haley exclaimed down the phone.

'Yes I can. Haley, he practically _offered_,' Brooke told her.

'That still doesn't make it okay.' Haley sounded exasperated.

'Whatever,' dismissed Brooke. 'He probably won't even call anyway.'

'So when are you gonna get your ass down here to see what I've been up to?' Haley asked.

'I told you, as soon as I get a break. I've been really busy at work,' Brooke promised.

Haley sighed. 'Brooke, you've been really busy at work for 6 years now. Besides, you run your own company, how hard can it be to take a holiday?'

'You'd be surprised,' murmured Brooke, before her cell beeped at her. 'I've gotta go, Hales, I'll call you tomorrow?'

'Okay,' sighed Haley, 'but don't think this conversation is over!'

'I won't,' laughed Brooke. 'Love you!'

Hanging up the phone, Brooke hopped up off the coach and ran to grab her cell off the countertop. 'Hello?' she trilled as she answered it.

'Hey, is this Brooke Davis?' a voice said on the line.

'This is she.'

'Oh, great, this is Peyton Sawyer, I believe you know Nathan Scott?'

'Um, no, I'm afraid I don't know anyone by that name,' Brooke said. 'Wrong number.'

'No, no, I'm sure you do!' the girl at the end of the line persisted. 'Nathan Scott, he spilled his drink on you at the Tribeca Star the other night?'

Brooke folded her arms. 'Oh, well in that case I do know him, unfortunately. Do you need to contact my accountant?'

'What?' said the voice on the line. 'Actually, I'm not calling about him, you see, I found the card you gave him in his jacket pocket, and I've been trying to contact you for _months _now-'

'What?' Brooke inhaled sharply. Was this some kind of stalker call?

'Oh,' Peyton laughed. 'I didn't mean it in that way. I wanted to contact you because I'm getting married in two months and since you are the _best _wedding dress designer around I was hoping you could make my wedding dress for me.'

Brooke was silent for a moment before she spoke. 'Look, I appreciate the business, but I really don't see why I should be doing this, I mean, Nathan was the one who spilled his drink on _me-_'

'Oh, I know! But really this has nothing to do with him; you wouldn't be doing him any favours. I was hoping you would do this to help me. I'd pay you in full, obviously.'

Brooke hesitated. Obviously this woman wanted her to ignore the fact that her fiancé ruined a brand new Clothes Over Bro's creation. Brooke really wanted nothing to do with this Nathan Scott person. However, her line was still fresh and she very rarely got to design and create made-to-order wedding dresses (most brides just bought off the rack). Brooke could already picture it: white lace over a fitted strapless bodice, a long flowing skirt embroidered with tiny glass beads that would reflect the light when the dress moved…

'You know what? I'll do it,' said Brooke, smiling when the woman squealed. 'However, I'm taking a vacation in a few days, so I won't be able to meet with you to discuss designs until a week or so.'

'That's no problem,' Peyton said. 'Thank you so much, Miss Davis, you have no idea how much I love you right now!'

Brooke laughed. 'No problem. And by the way, just call me Brooke.'

* * *

Brooke dumped her oversized Fendi bag onto the floor and brushed down her jeans. She sat down on her seat, stretched out her legs and pulled a magazine from her bag. The plane was filling up now, and Brooke was glad she'd booked herself in First Class even though the flight was only a few hours. she simply couldn't face another flight crammed in economy with no-

'What the-!' she squeaked as she found herself being sprayed with cold water.

'Oh, shit,' said a voice, and she looked up.

There stood the guy from the party, the guy she now knew to be Nathan Scott, standing with an open bottle of water.

'I tripped,' he offered by way of explanation.

'No kidding,' she said dryly through gritted teeth, while brushing the drops of water from off her clothes.

'At least it was only water this time,' the guy said helpfully.

'_This time_,' Brooke muttered. 'What are you doing?' she asked, horrified, as he sat down in the seat next to her.

'Err, this is my seat.'

'Can't you go sit somewhere else?' she whined.

'Plane's all full.'

Brooke leaned her head back and closed her eyes. 'Great.'

'Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry about your dress, and I'm sorry now. Truce?'

Brooke opened her eyes and saw the outstretched hand he was offering her. 'Fine,' she said. 'But I don't want to shake your hand,' she added as she closed her eyes again.

He laughed. 'I'm Nathan Scott by the way.'

'Yeah, I heard. I'm Brooke.'

'Fashion designer right?'

'Sure thing. Peyton called me. Said she found my card in your jacket. I'm gonna make her wedding dress.' Brooke was careful to remain as monosyllabic as possible. As nice as this guy's fiancée seemed, she was not going to forget about that cranberry red stain he'd left on her dress.

'Yeah, I think she mentioned it. She's really pleased about that by the way,' Nathan said, ignoring the fact that Brooke was trying to blank him out.

Brooke rolled her eyes at his deliberate enthusiasm and then shuffled down in her chair and tried to fall asleep. 2 hours on a plane with Nathan Scott…great.

Nathan smiled. Brooke's initial prickly disposition was slightly endearing, and the idea that he apparently pissed her off was greatly amusing. Now she had shut up and wasn't trying to insult him or get him to go away he was able to study her closer. Her dark, shiny hair was pulled back into a loose pony, her long bangs framing her hazel eyes. Her skin was clear, and showed just a hint of blush on the apples of her cheeks, and her lips were glossed pink. The wife-beater with the halter-neck she wore showed off her elegant shoulders and the pale delicate skin of her neck, and her faded jeans hung low and loose on her slim hips. Nathan whistled mentally. She was gorgeous.

After half an hour of staring out of the window and pretending to be asleep, Brooke sat up and turned to Nathan.

'And what are you doing going to Tree Hill anyway?' she demanded.

Nathan looked up from the sports magazine he was reading and pulled an earphone out of his ear, startled. He thought she'd been asleep.

'I live there,' he replied.

'You live there?' Brooke asked again.

'That's what I just said, didn't I?'

'Oh.'

Nathan smiled inwardly.

'What are you doing going to Tree Hill?'

'My sister lives there. She just opened a café.'

'Oh.'

'Yup.' Brooke nodded.

Nathan was silent for a moment. 'So you're not going to see Peyton?'

'What?'

'Peyton,' Nathan said. 'I just assumed that you were going to see her to discuss the dress.'

'I didn't know she lived there,' confessed Brooke.

'Well, now you do, so I guess you two can meet up and talk about it then, yeah?'

Brooke narrowed her eyes at him. 'I guess so.'

'Great,' smiled Nathan, pleased with himself. 'Peyton will be pleased. She was worried that you wouldn't have enough time to get it ready by June.'

'I'll get it done on time,' Brooke interjected. 'I always do.'

'Well,' said Nathan, 'good.'

* * *

Hope you liked it :)


	2. Of Cafes and Breakdowns

**Title – Traffic and Weather**

**Summary – AU. 'We belong together. Like traffic and weather.' Brooke was careful to remain as monosyllabic as possible. As nice as this guy's fiancée seemed, she was not going to forget about that cranberry red stain he'd left on her dress.**

**Rating – T, to be safe.**

**Pairings – Brooke/Nathan (other pairings tbc)**

**Disclaimer – Not mine.**

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews! Some of you mentioned the title, and I actually took it from the song of the same title by the band _Fountains of Wayne. _I'm sure you guys have heard of them. Check out the song, it's a great tune. Also check out _Evan Olson's 'Not What I Wanted'_, a song that's already been featured on the show.**

* * *

'I still don't see why it took you so long to get here,' said Haley, pouring coffee into the mug in front of Brooke.

'I told you, Hales, work was really busy. I couldn't get the time off,' Brooke protested.

'Yeah, yeah,' said Haley, 'but you do realise work for _yourself_.'

'So do you,' Brooke shot back.

Brooke was sat at the wooden counter inside _Haley's_, the new café her sister had just opened. It had open brick walls, a polished wooden floor and various pieces of mix-matched furniture around the place. Fairy lights twinkled around the café, posters adorned the walls and a stage was set up for when Haley felt like throwing an open-mic night. One wall was painted with chalkboard paint, where inspirational quotes were regularly updated. It was, all in all, _very_ Haley. Haley, herself, was standing behind the counter wearing a blue apron around her waist, dressed casually in jeans and a scoop-neck white t-shirt with the long sleeves pushed up, showing off her lightly tanned arms. Her light red-brown hair was worn long and wavy, her eyes showed a splash of shimmer, and in her ears twinkled long earrings, courtesy of Clothes Over Bro's Accessories.

'But the difference is, I actually take time off when I want to,' said Haley, wiping her hands on a nearby cloth. 'And I haven't made my first million yet.'

Brooke rolled her eyes. 'I don't do what I do for the money, Haley. I love my job.'

'And I understand that,' reassured Haley. 'But it's not about the money for me either. I love it here. I love this town, the people, this café. It's everything I've ever wanted.'

'This hick town?' Brooke laughed, and took a sip from her coffee.

'Yup,' grinned Haley. 'But hey, the guys aren't so bad…'

'I'll be the judge of that,' countered Brooke confidently. 'Speaking of…remember that guy I told you about? The jerk who spilt his drink on me?'

Haley nodded, resting her arms lightly on the countertop. 'The hot jerk you gave your number to.'

'Haley, I told you, that was not the point!' Brooke protested. 'And I never told you he was hot!'

'Sis, not to be offensive, but the way you where spitting blood about him when we were on the phone was a total giveaway that he was a hottie. Plus you're getting all defensive now,' Haley stated matter-of-factly. 'I know you too well,' Haley singsonged when she saw Brooke's mouth hanging open in mock shock.

'As I was saying,' Brooke continued, pointedly ignoring her younger sister's comments, 'I got a call from his fiancée. Turns out she found my business card-'

'Oh my God,' Haley exclaimed. 'You got caught by his _fiancée??_'

'Haley!' Brooke cried. 'That was _so _not what happened! And will you please stop interrupting me?'

Haley laughed. She came out from behind the counter with the coffee pot to refill some customers' cups. 'Okay, sorry. You were saying?'

'Yes,' Brooke said, spinning on her seat to face her sister. 'His fiancée called me, and wants me to make her wedding dress.'

'Cool. Okay, so?'

'Well, you'll never guess who I sat next to on the plane ride down here.'

Haley looked blank.

'None other than Nathan Scott. The jerk himself.'

'Wait,' said Haley. '_The_ Nathan Scott?'

'How many Nathan Scotts are there?' asked Brooke, her face blank.

'Nathan Scott the former NBA superstar, you idiot!' Haley cried, smacking Brooke on the arm.

'Who?' said Brooke.

'Nathan Scott. Played for basketball for Duke, got drafted into the NBA, but got injured a couple of years ago. Doesn't look like he'll ever be able to play professionally again. Seriously good player, not to mention the body of a _god.'_

'Oh,' said Brooke.

Haley stood with her hand on one hip, the coffee pot in the other. 'Don't tell me, you didn't know who he was?'

Brooke shrugged. 'I thought he was just another New York City society-darling trust-fund-bunny. Most of them are at parties in the City.'

'Don't you watch sports?' asked Haley.

'Hey, I'm a _fashion designer,_ since when do we need to know who scored what touchdown in what game?'

'Baskets, Brooke,' Haley corrected. 'Not touchdowns.'

Brooke waved her hands in front of Haley's face. 'Hello? Does it even matter?'

'I guess not. But your prediction about being a trust-fund-bunny is true,' Haley admitted. 'But not a New York City one, a local one.'

'What?' asked Brooke.

'Yeah, he's from Tree Hill, and from what I hear his parents are loaded. His mom comes from old money, and his father owns a few car dealerships around here. He's even stopped in a few times.'

'Nathan?'

'No, his dad.' Haley shook her head. 'He's a horrible man. I feel sorry for that girl marrying Nathan. I seriously wouldn't want to be involved in that family.'

Brooke thought for a minute. 'How come you didn't tell me Nathan Scott was from around here before?'

'You never mentioned his name before, dummy,' Haley chided. 'Otherwise I would have.'

'Hmm,' Brooke said. 'Well, Nathan happened to mention on the plane that I could talk to Peyton about the dress while I was here.'

'That's great,' Haley said. 'Or…not?' she added, as she saw the look on Brooke's face.

'Ugh,' Brooke said. 'I can't believe I agreed to make this dress. That guy was _such_ a jerk.'

'Brooke, you're not making it for him. And besides, you love making wedding dresses,' Haley reminded her. 'And weddings, come to mention it. Who knows, maybe you'll get an invite to this one.'

Brooke made a face at her.

'Give Peyton a call, Brooke,' Haley said. 'You never know, she might surprise you.'

'God, why did you have to be the good sister?' moaned Brooke. 'Why couldn't I get a psychotic nymphomaniac as a sibling?'

Haley grinned. 'You already took that role, Brooke,' she said with a wink.

* * *

Brooke stepped out of the restaurant with a happy feeling. She'd just had lunch with Peyton, who'd turned out to be a skinny blonde with a bold personality and a surprisingly alternative taste in music. Brooke had immediately felt comfortable with her, and liked her greatly. It was just a shame that she was marrying an asshole (she'd apologised profusely for Nathan's clumsiness and lack of co-ordination. They'd both laughed at this, considering he used to be a basketball player). They'd discussed the dress in detail, and Brooke felt she had enough information to come up with a few sketches. She had that feeling of excited anticipation, when she had hundreds of ideas bubbling around inside her head, and she immediately wanted to rush back home to get them all down. Peyton wanted strapless, like Brooke had been hoping, possibly in ivory or off-white. Haley had been right – Peyton had surprised her. She had surprised her so much that Brooke was thinking about extending her stay in Tree Hill until the dress was finished. When she'd mentioned this, naturally, Peyton had been delighted. Brooke skipped down the steps in front of the restaurant, her dress swinging around her knees, her flip-flops slapping cheerily on the pavement. She got into her car, a smooth silver convertible and started on the journey back to the apartment she was currently sharing with Haley. She was soon speeding along River Road, the radio blasting _'Not What I Wanted'_ by the Evan Olson. Brooke titled her head to the sky, the wind stirring her hair, the sun warming her face. For the end of March, it was already pretty warm. Brooke breathed deeply. What a good day.

Until the convertible made a heavy clinking sound, slowed down, and started smoking.

'What the-' Brooke started.

She pulled the car over to the side of the road, and stepped out, slamming the door behind her. Carefully, she lifted the hood of the car, and coughed as more smoke poured out. Shutting it quickly, she walked round to the side of the car.

'Great,' she said to herself, reaching in to grab her cell phone from her bag. '_Battery low' _flashed the screen, before giving up and switching itself off. 'Fantastic!' she muttered, looking along the road. There was no one else around. 'That's just great.' She weighed up her options. Walk and risk being abducted (she'd seen the creepy movies) or stay put. Brooke decided to wait it out. Someone had to come along eventually. She jumped back in her car, tilted the seat back and closed her eyes…

She jerked awake when a car door slammed noisily. Brooke sat up abruptly and checked out the large black SUV that had pulled up behind her. She quickly scrambled out of the car, and turned to face the person who had come to her rescue.

'Hey, thanks for…' Brooke trailed off when she saw the tall man loping towards her. He was well built, dark-haired and had blue eyes she could now recognise anywhere.

'…stopping,' she finished with a sigh. 'Nathan.'

'Brooke,' he greeted, a slight smile playing on his lips. 'What made you decide to stop all the way out here?'

'My car broke down,' she explained. 'And the battery died on my cell.'

He inwardly smiled at the way she was dressed, in a flowy red sundress with white flip-flops and a matching white headband in her hair. A modern day princess with a broken down carriage.

'Let's have a look,' Nathan said, walking round to the front of the car and opening the hood. Brooke followed him.

'You know about cars?' she asked, as Nathan reached in and started to examine the engine. Brooke noticed that he'd pushed up the sleeves on the long-sleeved tee he was wearing, exposing inches of tanned, toned arms. The sight of all him bending over her car, his jeans faded and loose-fitting made her come over all unnecessary. She forced herself to look somewhere else.

'A little,' he replied. 'My uncle is a mechanic, and my dad owns a dealership.'

'So I've heard,' Brooke murmured.

'Your fan belt has gone,' he confirmed, straightening up and slamming the hood shut. 'It's causing the engine to overheat. It's gonna need to be taken in.'

'Great,' sighed Brooke. 'My cell phone has gone…'

'And I've got no reception out here,' said Nathan, examining his own cell phone.

Brooke turned away and threw her arms up in defeat. 'Come on!' she said. 'What is this, karmic payback because I actually had a good day?'

'Actually, I've got a satellite phone in my car,' Nathan added.

Brooke stared at him. 'You have.'

'Yeah,' he said. 'For emergencies.'

'A gift from daddy?' she muttered under her breath.

'What?'

Brooke looked up, to see him looking at her intently, his brow furrowed slightly. 'Nothing,' she sighed. 'Can I use it, please?'

'Why don't you just wait here for the moment,' said Nathan. 'I'll call my uncle to come pick it up.'

He disappeared inside his car for a moment, and Brooke was allowed to contemplate the uncomfortable situation she'd managed to get herself into. Stranded in the middle of nowhere with a guy who clearly knew she disliked him. 'Well done, Davis,' she told herself. 'Now you're gonna owe him one.'

'He's on his way,' called Nathan, stepping out of his car and walking back to where she stood. 'I'll give you a ride.'

Brooke was reluctant. 'I'll just wait for the truck to pick me up.'

'Come on, it's just a ride,' said Nathan. 'I don't bite.'

Brooke turned to look at him. God, he was totally cute. _And totally married_, she told herself. _Well, nearly._

'I promise I'll keep all beverages away from you,' he joked.

She rolled her eyes, hard. 'Fine,' she sighed, giving in.

'Great,' said Nathan, pleased with himself. 'We can just leave the car here, Keith knows where it is.' He turned and walked back to his car, leaving Brooke to grab her bag out of the convertible and run to catch up with him. He went round to the passenger side and opened the door for her. _A gentleman._ She got in.

'So…' Nathan started when they were crawling through Tree Hill.

Brooke turned to look at him. 'So?'

'You met with Peyton today?'

'Yeah,' said Brooke, smiling. 'She's really great Nathan, an excellent choice. I have to give you that.'

'Um, yeah. Hey, I was thinking you should come to this party that we're having on Friday, you know, as a prelude to the wedding. Kind of a late engagement party,' Nathan explained. 'It's just gonna be some family and friends, that sorta thing.'

'Uh, I don't know…' said Brooke hesitantly.

'As the designer of the dress I know Peyton would love to have you there,' Nathan persuaded.

'I don't want to intrude on your evening,' Brooke started, 'especially if your family is gonna be there.' _Cus I don't want to meet your evil father,_ she added as a mental afterthought.

'You wouldn't be, honestly,' Nathan said. 'It'll be a really casual thing, you know, plus, we've got so many friends no one will know who anyone else is,' he added. He took a quick glance at her, and saw her biting her lip.

'Nathan…'

'Please, Brooke,' he pleaded. 'It would be really great to have you there.'

Brooke took in a breath. She wouldn't mind spending an evening with Peyton, and at this rate she wouldn't mind sharing the night with Nathan either.

'Well, if you're sure…'

'I am,' said Nathan confidently. 'I'll pick you up at around-'

'That won't be necessary,' interrupted Brooke. 'Just tell me where you live, and I'll be there.'

Nathan grinned at her. 'Great.'

The boy was obviously on his best behaviour (Peyton must have told him off for the two beverage incidents), and she had to admit, his charm was appealing. _I wonder if he's got any brothers, _Brooke thought mischievously.

* * *


	3. Of Cakes and Dresses

**Title – Traffic and Weather**

**Summary – AU. 'We belong together. Like traffic and weather.' Brooke was careful to remain as monosyllabic as possible. As nice as this guy's fiancée seemed, she was not going to forget about that cranberry red stain he'd left on her dress.**

**Rating – T, to be safe.**

**Pairings – Brooke/Nathan (other pairings tbc)**

**Disclaimer – Not mine.**

**A/N: Thanks once again for the reviews, with a special shout out to tripnfallbri and Tamarindo – I adore your long reviews!**

* * *

'You came.'

Brooke was stood outside the Scott family house (or should she say _mansion_). Nathan had answered the door promptly, looking handsome in a white dress shirt with no tie and tailored black pants (not unlike the first time she'd seen him). She noticed the tanned skin of his face, the contrasting whiteness of the skin on the underside of his arms, and the slight scent of Hermès Eau D'Orange Verte. She approved. Thank goodness he'd forgone the hideously inappropriate white sneakers this time.

He'd been watching out for her, not that he told her this. He'd watched her pull up in her newly fixed car, and walk up to the front door. She looked slightly nervous (though she would never admit this) and had taken a moment to compose herself before ringing the doorbell. He had run to answer it. Unknowingly, his face had broken into a smile when he'd seen her, dressed demurely in a white spaghetti strap cocktail dress that hit just above the knee (not unlike the first time he'd seen her). He noticed the simple, sleek chignon she'd pulled back her shiny hair into, the smudge of liner on her top lashes, and cranberry red shine of her lips.

'I said I would,' she said with a coy smile, stepping confidently past him into the house.

The house interior was just as large as the exterior, and Brooke found herself being whisked back to the large summer house in Connecticut her family had and visited every summer. The style the house had been decorated in wasn't exactly her taste, but it certainly showcased the wealth the Scotts apparently possessed. Elegantly dressed people where scattered around the house, talking and laughing amiably. Nathan led her into the fray, and they found themselves engaged in several conversations with Nathan's various friends. Brooke was introduced to Bevin, Tim, Jake and several people with odd names (Mouth, Skills and Junk, to name a few).

'Have you met Lucas yet?' Mouth, a quietly spoken guy who was apparently a sport's announcer, asked Brooke.

'Uh, no, not yet,' Brooke answered. She shot a questionable look at Nathan, who filled in the details for her.

'He's my brother – half-brother actually,' said Nathan. 'He's a nice guy, you'll like him.'

Brooke nodded, a devilish smile playing on her lips. _That answers my question about the brothers…_

Brooke noticed Peyton heading towards them.

'Brooke! It's so great that you're here!' the blonde called, embracing Brooke tightly. 'We weren't sure if you were gonna turn up!'

'What, did no one think I was gonna show?' Brooke laughed.

'You look gorgeous,' complimented Peyton.

'So do you!' Brooke meant the compliment. Peyton was wearing an olive green strapless dress that set off her flaxen hair and fair skin to perfection.

'Nathan!' someone shouted. 'Nate, come here!'

'Duty calls,' Nathan murmured with a grin and excused himself.

'This is an amazing house,' Brooke told Peyton. 'And your friends are great.'

'I know,' said Peyton. 'They've been the ones keeping me calm about the whole thing, and they've been amazing in helping me plan. I can't believe I'm getting married in a month!'

'Are you nervous?' Brooke asked.

'I will be,' Peyton answered truthfully. 'But really, I just can't wait to finally be Mrs Scott!'

'That's a good sign,' said a smooth voice behind them. The two women turned to see a tall, blonde man with familiar blue eyes holding a drink.

'Lucas!' Peyton said. 'This is Brooke Davis, she's the girl behind the masterpiece that is my wedding dress.'

'So I've heard,' he said, smiling easily at the brunette. 'Lucas Scott.'

She shook his hand, realising why he seemed so familiar. He had the same blue eyes as Nathan.

'Uh, Peyton?'

Peyton turned to another pretty blonde.

'Deb's just found out that the bartender is serving alcohol to everyone…but her,' the girl explained. 'It doesn't look good.'

Peyton rolled her eyes and turned back to Lucas and Brooke. 'Sorry guys, duty calls.'

As they watched Peyton hurry off to the outside bar, Lucas turned to Brooke and asked, 'Can I get you a drink?'

'Actually, no thanks,' Brooke declined.

'Not drinking tonight?'

'No,' she said firmly. 'I'm driving.'

'I'm sure Nathan could give you a ride home,' Lucas offered.

Brooke laughed. 'I think he'll have his hands full later.'

Lucas nodded, raising one eyebrow. 'Oh really…'

In the pause in conversation, Brooke was able to study Lucas a little closer. His dirty blonde hair was worn in a messy style, his tanned skin complimenting the blue of his eyes. The white shirt he was wearing underneath a suit jacket had a few buttons, and gave a hint of the muscular physique that was hidden beneath it. Lucas seemed nice enough, but he oozed the cool confidence of a guy who knew he was hot. He kind of reminded her of herself.

'Will you be coming with Nathan to the wedding?' Lucas was asking her, jolting her out of her thoughts. He smirked quietly to himself. He'd seen her checking him out.

Brooke laughed. 'I doubt it,' she replied.

'But you came with him today?'

'No, I drove myself. Hence my not drinking. Nathan just invited me,' she politely informed him.

'So you two aren't-'

'We're friends,' she interrupted. She did not need people thinking she was the other woman.

'Peyton said you're a designer?' Lucas asked, after a moment.

'Yeah, I run a fashion line. We've got a store in New York.'

'Wow, you must be successful. I don't know much about fashion but I do know that it's a highly competitive business,' Lucas said, seemingly impressed. 'Dog eat dog.'

'One guy's leftovers is another guy's prize,' Brooke said. 'What do you do?'

'I'm a writer,' Lucas said.

Brooke raised her eyebrows. 'There's me going on about competitive businesses and you already know all about it. Anything I might have heard of?'

'Probably not,' Lucas answered. 'I've only been published once.'

'Try me.'

Lucas laughed. '_An Unkindness of Ravens._'

'You wrote that book?' Brooke said, her eyebrows raised. 'I actually read that book. My sister is in love with it.'

Lucas laughed again.

'I'm not kidding,' Brooke continued. 'She has about ten copies of it at her café. It's an amazing novel.'

'Thanks-' he started.

A loud crash was heard from the kitchen, followed by a scream and shouting. 'Excuse me,' Lucas said, and strode calmly to the kitchen leaving Brooke by herself. A moment later Peyton hurried out of the kitchen and ran into Brooke, her dress covered in what looked like buttercream icing.

'Oh my God,' exclaimed Brooke. 'What happened?'

'Uh, we had a little disaster with the cakes,' Peyton explained. 'And now I'm like this, and we have no dessert and now Nathan's mom is seriously giving me a migraine because she's just not shutting up about how I kind have on purpose said to-'

'Okay, okay, calm down,' Brooke soothed. 'I can help.'

'What?'

'My sister owns a café in town and I swear her cakes are straight from heaven. I can call her and get her to drop some over,' Brooke offered.

'Really?' Peyton asked.

'Of course,' smiled Brooke.

'Thank you so much!' said Peyton. 'You're a lifesaver. Now all I have to do is fix this,' she said, gesturing to her ruined dress.

Brooke looked down at it. Icing stuck clumpily to the material. 'Err, I hate to break this to you, honey, but until we can get that dry cleaned, that dress is officially finished for tonight.'

Peyton visibly drooped.

'But hey, you happen to have a fashion designer on hand,' Brooke said cheerily. 'When I call Haley I'll get her to send a dress over.'

'Seriously?' said Peyton. 'Brooke, you're like a fairy godmother!'

Brooke laughed. 'Anything for a friend.'

* * *

'Everything you need for a first class sugar hangover is right in this magic box of tricks here,' trilled Haley, setting down three white boxes on the counter top of the Scotts' kitchen.

'These or gorgeous!' exclaimed Peyton. 'Who made them?'

'These guys did,' Haley said, holding up her hands.

'You're a genius,' said Peyton.

'And I take it this is for you as well,' Haley said, retrieving the large black garment bag, and handing it to Brooke, who promptly unzipped it and pulled the dress out. It was a halter neck cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline, created entirely from a shimmering black material. Unhooking it from the hanger, Brooke threw it at Peyton.

'Go get dressed,' she said.

'Brooke, Haley, I can't thank you enough…'

'Go!' Brooke commanded with a grin. 'You've got guests to entertain.'

Peyton grinned, and ran up the stairs, but stopped halfway. 'Haley, you're totally welcome to stay and enjoy the party.'

'Thanks, but I've gotta get back to the café,' she said, 'I'm still on the clock.'

'You sure?' Peyton asked.

'Yeah, but thanks for the offer,' Haley said. 'Maybe some other time.'

'I'll see you at home then?' said Brooke.

'If you come home tonight,' winked Haley.

Brooke gasped at her sister's audaciousness. 'Haley Davis!'

'What?' Haley said innocently. 'You know, it's not hard to remember the countless nights you crawled back into the house through the window at three am after being with Ross Coleshill when we were in high school.'

'How do you know cheerleading practice didn't overrun and I was just showing him a new routine?' responded Brooke.

'Because I was on the team, dear sister,' countered Haley with a grin.

'Hey, you think I don't remember how you helped the star quarterback to, ahem, _score _an A in English, Tutor Girl?' Brooke commented mischievously.

'Okay, okay, you win,' said Haley. 'But for the record, that wasn't all I tutored him in…'

'Haley! You've been spending too much time around me!' Brooke exclaimed.

'Never. Don't stay out too late…' Haley giggled, causing Brooke to slap her on the butt on her way out.

'Get out of here!'

* * *

By nine o'clock, the party was still going strong. Brooke had seen very little of Nathan, but had been getting to know his and Peyton's friends. They were all from Tree Hill and went to the same high school. They seemed exactly like the sort of people Brooke would have as her friends. As people drank more and more, stories from their childhood were becoming more and more frequent. Just as Skills was describing the first time he was 'Notebook-ed', Tim stepped up to the microphone that was set up in the main living room.

'If I could have everyone's attention,' he slurred, 'It's time for some mad props from the bestest man, yo!'

'Tim,' said Lucas, who was standing next to him, 'just say it's time for the speeches.'

Brooke stood up quickly. She'd been to enough weddings to know that the speeches were not always the high point. Especially when excessive amounts of alcohol had been consumed, like tonight, for example. She quietly stepped through the large open doors at the back of the room and found herself in the Scotts' expansive back yard. She stepped down the steps off the porch, and onto the grass. Slipping her shoes off her feet and letting them dangle from her fingers, she sat on the lawn and drained her glass.

'You know, some people would be offended to find you drunk and skipping the speeches.'

Brooke twisted her body round to find Nathan sat leaning on his knees, his own half-full glass in his hands. 'Look who's setting an example,' she countered.

Nathan laughed. He got up from his seat and plonked himself on the grass next to her. 'What's your poison?'

Brooke held up her glass for him to see. 'Soda.'

'You're a better person than me,' he said, taking a gulp from his drink.

'I'm also driving.'

'I can give you a ride home,' Nathan proposed.

'Not anymore, Mr JD and coke.'

Nathan laughed again. 'Touché.'

They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Brooke noticed that Nathan had rolled the sleeves up on his shirt, reminding her of when they first met.

'You look nice tonight,' Nathan said, breaking the silence. 'Not that you don't usually, I just-'

'Thanks,' she said. 'You don't scrub up too bad yourself. Though I have to say I did have an overwhelming urge to throw my drink on you.'

They laughed together. 'I can't believe I did that. Twice,' Nathan said. 'Which I am eternally sorry for, by the way.'

'I know,' Brooke said. 'It's all in the past now.'

'Good,' Nathan said, catching her eyes. 'I'm glad…' He leaned in slightly towards her, and she turned to face him. Brooke's breath caught in her throat when she realised how close his face was to hers. She could smell the citrus-y scent of the cologne she loved on a guy and the hint of alcohol on his breath. She could see the dark eyelashes lining those deep blue eyes. He leaned in further and brushed her hair off her face and all she had to do was tilt her face up a few centimetres and they'd be-

'I-I have to go,' she said shakily, pulling back and jumping to her feet. 'I can't– I won't be that girl, Nathan.'

'Brooke-'

'Hey, Nathan, get your butt in here, we're doing the speeches!' Peyton called, sticking her head out of the door, to see Brooke rushing towards the house.

'Brooke, you coming?'

'I have to go,' Brooke said, pushing past Peyton. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her throat felt tight. How had that happened? She hasn't given him any signs she was interested, had she? _Oh God, _she thought. How was she going to face Peyton again? She ran through the house past the main room where the speeches were still taking place. As she wrenched open the front door, she heard Skills begin, 'To Peyton and-'

Nathan heard the door slam.

'What was that?' Peyton asked Nathan, her face worried.

'Don't even go there,' he said, sighing.

'Well, come on, future brother-in-law,' Peyton sang, 'You're needed.'

* * *


End file.
